


We Had Fun

by rythmicjea



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:20:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18391982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rythmicjea/pseuds/rythmicjea
Summary: Beast!Quentin fic because I think we need more of them.





	We Had Fun

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in an embarrassingly long time. I asked for prompts and thought of one myself so I was challenged to write it. It did not go the way I expected. Please enjoy!

The throne room was a disaster. Wooden tables and chairs littered the floor in splintered confetti. She thought she had gained an upper hand. Her long and thick chestnut hair clumped with sweat and blood as Margo lay paralyzed on the floor, her axes Sorrow and Sorrow on either side of her. 

She battled longer than the others. Eliot was the first to go down; his hubris got the best of him. Julia and Penny worked together thinking they had him when they realized that he had just been toying with them. Penny’s psychic powers weren’t strong enough to know that what he thought was The Beast’s mind was just a front and a trap in itself. Julia, with her ability to combine spells was clunky to the demi-god and they were as easy to take apart as if they were only scotch taped together.

Brute force. That was Margo’s plan. She had gone into the desert searching for a way to take down her once friend. It worked for a moment as battle magic wasn’t The Beast’s strongest discipline. She had employed the Red Spirits assistance but he dusted them like the desert sands they were. Now, after being struck in the back, she lay face down on the cold tile floor. The polished surface bringing relief to the heat rising in her cheeks. Her blood was rushing fast. Too fast. Margo couldn’t understand why she was still alive. She could hear crying, was it her? Was she pleading for her life? Maybe he would spare her…

The rubber soles squeaked on the tile, each step deliberate and a whistle on his lips. Dead moths littered his path in his wake. “You know, it’s thoughts like that that make me not believe you.” He sighed heavily. “I know your game. I’ve always known your game. You think you’re more powerful than you are. But, what I know and what you refuse to acknowledge is that you are just a scared little girl crying for ‘daddy’.” Squatting next to her, The Beast brushed a lock of hair out of her face with his new sixth finger. It wasn’t cooperating like his other natural fingers but it would only take practice. Minor mending was his specialty after all. 

He coo-ed someone, but Margo couldn’t tell if it was her. Her face was wet with sweat and blood and her eyes hurt but was that from the migraine or tears? She couldn’t even tell if she was shaking with adrenaline or not. “I’m not happy about this. But, you left me no choice. You let your emotions cloud your judgement. We had fun, but you would have been a better lay if you hadn’t let your emotions get involved.” In the split second it took for Margo to realize that this was all revenge her world went black.

A shriek echoed off of the marble walls followed by gut wrenching sobs. Quentin stood smoothly, buttoning the heather grey suit jacket. A few steps and a simple tut the invisible bonds released his captive and she fell delicately into his arms. Everything in Alice’s mind screamed at her to move away to _get away from him now!_ But the physical exhaustion from the magic running through and around her made that impossible. Instead, all she could do was cling to him and soak his shirt with her tears. He murdered their last friend in front of her. Alice was the only one left. 

The fear of when she would be next was clearly evident because Quentin lifted her chin with his newly altered hand. Alice bit back the vile rising from her stomach from being touched by the unnatural magic. “Shh, Alice. It’ll be okay.” Quentin’s smile was not soothing or comforting like she was imagining he thought it was. He kissed her forehead softly and the fear of her own life alone prevented Alice from shoving him away. “I couldn’t hurt you. Not yet at least. I mean, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.” 

Quentin's smile turned sardonic as he held her close. All six of his fingers pressed along her side. Four of Alice's fingers clutched at the lapels of his suit jacket as her wooden pinkie sat solid and unmoving against his chest.


End file.
